


What Dreams May Come When Forever Begins

by Freerangeegghead



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Afterlifejourney, Afterlifestories, Angst, Canon Continuation, Character Death, Dark, F/F, Fantasy, Good Writing, Sad, Supernatural Elements, Tragic Romance, Well-Written, batshitinsanestory, dontcopytoanothersite, loveisstrongerthandeath
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:40:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27328201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freerangeegghead/pseuds/Freerangeegghead
Summary: In which, Jamie realizes that death isn't really the end but the beginning and that love can be stronger than death. As she prepares herself for a long anticipated reunion with the woman she has loved and lost, she also must contend  with an old adversary come to threaten the promise of eternal happiness she'd been denied for so long. Will she be able to overcome the odds? Or will she be doomed to eternal unhappiness?Read to find out.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: Rated T ~ M. Mature. 
> 
> Themes. Angst.
> 
> Pairing:Dani Clayton/Jamie  
> Warnings/Spoilers: Femslash. Post-canon. Mentions of canon. Character deaths. Violence. Spoilers for series. 
> 
> Genre: General. Supernatural. Horror. Fantasy. Mystery. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Nothing owned, nothing gained, prose all mine though. Give credit where credit is due though. (Please don't download and upload again and pass it off as your own. If you do, I will be forced to delete this and my other ff.)
> 
> Why: Because Dani. And Jamie. 'Nuff said. (Have not read ff on this ship, wanted to write one.)
> 
> Author’s note: Unbeta'ed. Mistakes mine. A few inspirations for this one, but mostly "What Dreams May Come", "Lovely Bones" and " Ghost", among others. With some supernatural, horror elements. Anyone expecting a fluffy, straightforward, romantic story with a happy ending might have to look elsewhere. There will be plot.There will be 80s references. And metaphors. And exposition. Much. Skip if not to your liking. You've been warned.
> 
> Btw, Happy Halloween!

The gardener looks out her window, at the snow gently falling on the ground, at the blanket of snow covering the landscape, at the leafless trees lining the empty road, illuminated by streetlights, pale orange in the gathering darkness. Not a creature stirred, no soul in sight, only the sound of her beating heart, now one with the ticking clock as she gazes out at the snow, in the darkness of a wintry night.

She gathers her shawl around her shoulders, draws them tight over her pajamas with pale, veined, shaking hands. She gathers her aching, stockinged feet beneath her for warmth, leans back and feels aching bones crack as her back feels the soft cushion of the sofa. She looks at her reflection, on the glass window and sees an older woman looking back at her, weary, defeated, as if the fight had gone out of her. She runs her hand on her face, runs a finger on the wrinkles lining her face, curls a strand of gray white hair on an index finger, soft, wiry, old. She looks old and defeated maybe, but the eyes are still fire, still defiant, reflecting a lifetime of love and longing and regret.

The gardener leans back, tries to think about the day. It is the same as the day before. She wakes, she eats, she reads, the gardens, she sleeps, she wakes and right now, she stares out the window, waiting for sleep to claim her again. She tries to recall if she has taken her medicine. Maria is good with reminding her of these things. She reckons she has taken her pills. For her aching heart. Her aching bones. For that chill in her being that would had never really gone away. She clasps her hands, squeezes them, feels the crack, sighs and looks out at the snow.

Maria has left. She gave her the day off. Wanted to be left alone. Mikey insisted she have one. Mikey is paying for Maria. Mikey wants her to come home. Mikey wants to take care of her. She had refused. She still refuses. This is home. Her forever home. The home she has built with her. Leaving her home would be like leaving her, leaving behind the memory of her, the smell of her, the sense of her, of Dani. Her Dani.

She closes her eyes. Begins to remember. Or tries to. The first time she sees Dani, in the kitchen, in Bly, having breakfast with the others, hair golden, eyes blue, voice warm as the sun. Dani walking on the grounds. Dani with the children. Dani in tears. Dani in the garden with her. Dani's lips on hers. Dani's lips on hers on the many nights after. Dani's lips on her skin, warm and soothing. Dani's breath against her ear, hitching, as she clings to her, as she moves with her, like a wave, naked skin on naked skin, the taste of her, the feel of her, tight and warm and hers. Home. Dani had felt like home. Dani will always be home. But Dani had gone. Dani had left. Leaving her alone in their forever home. And Jamie opens her eyes, watches the tears gather and she tries not to cry.

***

She hadn't expected Dani.  
After Rebecca's death, she'd been surprised they'd let the children stay. She'd wondered about their uncle, Henry Wingrave, snotty, snobby rich English lord that he was, why he'd refused to see the children, refused to take them away. The manor had seen its share of tragedy - the children's parents' death, Rebecca's death - and everyone had expected the uncle to step in, to take them away from all of this. But Lord Wingrave had been adamant, refused to see them. Or so, she thought. Oh, there'd been gossip. Talk of affairs. Jamie hadn't cared for gossip. Or affairs. What other people did with other people's spouses was none of her business. She wanted to live alone, to be left alone. Her flowers were enough. They kept her sane. They kept her from going mental. Still, sometimes, when she would see Lady Wingrave with her husband, and with Lord Henry Wingrave, she would wonder, fleetingly, about them. She would wonder, and she would shake away those thoughts, and go about her business. 

***

Jamie had always been loner. A lone wolf. She liked being alone. Years of being around other people, of having been betrayed and abandoned over and over again by people have given her an angry, cynical edge, a rage just simpering beneath the surface. She'd felt that with her parents, then she'd felt that with the many foster parents she'd lived with, she'd felt that on the inside, cooped up as she was for getting in trouble. She'd felt that even with her case worker, her counselor. With every adult that had come and gone just as swiftly. Then she'd met Beth. Beth had been different. Beth was like her. A loner. With her dark hair and dark eye liner and her black nail polish, her scruffy jeans and leather jacket, that angry scar across her lip, that easy swagger and permanent smirk on her face as if she knew what life was for what it was:a big cosmic, pointless joke. She'd scoff and snort during group sessions, group meetings, during assembly, always with a ready snide remark, her comments always dripping with sarcasm. So Jamie had been surprised when she'd directed that smirk at Jamie, surprised she'd always find Beth sitting beside her, cracking jokes. Beth was dangerous, she knew this. She was as certain of it as sure as she was of the London rain.

But something drew her to Beth. Whenever Beth came to sit beside her, for lunch, for group therapy, for their time outside, she knew she should avoid her. But she did not. Like a moth drawn to a flame, she had allowed herself to get close to Beth. Against her better judgment. Against the wishes of her counselor. Against everything she believed in. She'd let Beth in. And paid the price for it, one day when Beth had just vanished into thin air, no goodbye, not even a note, only a memory, the memory of their time together.  
She'd sworn then she wouldn't fall for that anymore.

People disappoint her. Always. It was best she avoided them.

***

The gardener had no need of sleep now. She is sleeping less and less. Late in her life, knowing she may have years, or months or just days left, she wants to savor every minute of it. Mikey wants her to rest, to sleep some more. "I'll sleep when I'm dead," she'd quipped - one of those rare moments after Dani had left, when she could muster enough wit to bring the old Jamie out.

She thinks old Jamie's gone. Old Jamie had drowned with Dani that cold, mist-laden morning at Bly Manor, when she'd found Dani beneath the lake. A part of her had been left behind at that lake, and a hole, a void had opened, where Dani used to live. A void that could never be filled. By anything or anyone.

***

Jamie feels a small pain shoot up her left arm. She is old now. Is in a galaxy of pain. She has medicine for everything. Arthritis. Heart. Cholesterol. Blood pressure. She is a chemist's dream. She is surprised her body is still alive. This old body, this old husk, tired and weary and just old, is a fighter, wouldn't let her give up. She drops her feet on the floor, gets up, feels her bones crackle and pop as she hobbles to the bedroom, their bedroom, cold and lonely and hers.

***

She hadn't expected Dani.  
Beautiful, blonde, blue-eyed Dani. With her pink shirts and pink cardigans and faded jeans. Her easy smile and her easy laughter. 

Dani's arrival had made the manor a bit different. Made people a bit excited. They'd seldom get visitors. Even Lord Henry tended to stay away from the manor. None of their neighbors dared set foot on the manor. It was haunted, they'd said. It was cursed, others had claimed. It was doomed, others had surmised. This is what they'd told her when Lady Wingrave had given her the job. 

Jamie had been at the center for awhile then. Had stayed on as the gardener when everyone else had come of age and left, only to be re-arrested and returned to the center, thrown in jail or worse, murdered. She'd liked tending to the garden. Her wages weren't enough but she had a roof over her head, and food in her stomach. And if truth be told, the center was home. It was safe. It was predictable. They'd make her get up at six and do her chores, get breakfast, work after her meals. She had been free to read or go about her business or work in somebody else's garden if she wanted. As her reputation grew, so did her customers. When the Wingraves, donors of the center, had been looking for a new gardener, the director had recommended Jamie. Jamie had been in her twenties then. Had seen much and heard much. She hadn't wanted to go to Wingrave. "You need to go," the director, her former counselor, now one of her confidants, had gently told her. "It would be good for you."

It would be good for her, the director had said.

She'd scoffed at that.

But she had grudgingly gone. For a bit of change of scenery, she remembers.

***

The first few months had been lonely at the manor. But she'd found a flat above the pub, in town, and she could have a drink and a plate of fish and chips before she retreated to her hovel and she was fine.

She didn't need anyone.

She just needed herself. And her flowers.

But Dani would change that.

Dani would change her life.

Dani would change everything.

***

Jamie pushes the door.to their room, shuffles to their bed, her bed.

She feels the cold seep into her clothes, into her bones, into her very being. Like a chill she could never get rid of. Even with the heater on, she could never be warm enough. Ever since Dani had gone, she'd never been warm again.

***

Dani had come with the sun and the warm summer breeze. On a bright, solemn day. Such days were rare in England. And in Bly even more so. She'd come and Jamie had seen her and she knew something had changed. The air around Dani was different. On that day, Jamie forgets her weaknesses, her imprecisions, her ailments. On that day, Jamie had felt like everything was crystal, immutable, eternal...like glass. Like the ocean. Like Dani's eyes. Dani's ocean eyes. Her beautiful, ocean eyes.

***

Jamie knew she should avoid Dani. Dani isn't Beth. Jamie knows this. In fact, Dani is the opposite of Beth. She is warm and sunny, she is summer rains and spring breeze, she is spring flowers and summer sky. No, she isn't Beth. Where Beth filled everything with darkness, Dani filled everything with light. Jamie notices it. How a room, people, would light up, whenever Dani walks into a room.

So Jamie avoids her.

It is more self-preservation, she thinks.  
The night after Dani first comes to the manor, Jamie brings home some random, blond stranger, but it isn't the same, the voice is course and rough, the accent all wrong, the hands rough, noises loud and irritating. After, in the middle of a cigarette break, she'd told the woman she had to get up early, for work. And the woman had understood. Picks up her discarded clothes, shoes, bag, half-heartedly tells Jamie to call her but they both know she wouldn't and she doesn't even pretend, doesn't respond at all. Sitting there in her room, surrounded by a haze of cigarette smoke and sex, she has to admit that she is fascinated by Dani Clayton and that she should do everything in her power to avoid her.

***

It's hard to avoid Dani Clayton though.  
She seems to be everywhere. On the grounds, with the children, Myles and Flora. In the kitchen, having breakfast with everyone. In the parlor, in the gardens, by the chapel...and as Dani gets more involved with the children, she finds herself being drawn to her even more, intrigued by her.

Dani fascinated her. 

Dani making the children do household chores when they'd misbehaved. Dani sending Myles to his room when he'd been rude. Dani broken and sad and crying by the hedges, refusing to say what had made her cry like she did, face pale, breath short and rugged. She shouldn't get involved, Jamie remembers thinking. But what did one do in the face of a woman who seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown? She couldn't lie. She didn't like people. She preferred plants. Made no secret of it. Had once wanted to strangle Myles for destroying her rose bushes. But Dani...Dani had something she couldn't quite put a finger on. A kindness, maybe, that she could respond to. A sense of wanting to make her feel better, make her smile, hold her and protect her from the world.

She says the first thing that comes to her mind. That Dani is doing a good job. That she's doing fine. She isn't the most articulate at the best of times. And something about being in the presence of this woman, a former school teacher, more educated than her, she feels, a class above her, makes her feel self-conscious. But Dani smiles, and she sees those blue eyes warm a little and Jamie nods, awkwardly walks away, feels that warmth in her heart.

Later, whenever she sees blonde hair and blue eyes, Jamie feels her body hum, feels her heart beat a bit more steadily, feels her hands go a bit clammy and she knows them she is well and truly fucked.

***

She hadn't expected Dani to like her back.

When Dani had reached for her hand, slightly squeezed it, never breaking eye contact, communicating with her eyes and her touch how much she could not with words, Jamie's heart had soared. She could feel herself smiling. Dani could make her feel like that. Like a giddy school girl.

Her touch had lingered on Jamie's hand long after they'd parted and Jamie had driven away, Dani's figure receding in the distance.

***

Dani liked her.

Dani liked her as she liked her back.  
She hadn't been sure what to do with this knowledge.

But Owen's mother had died and they'd started a bonfire and started drinking and drunk on wine and liquid courage, Jamie'd led her to the greenhouse, coaxed the tragic story of the dead fiance from her, and somewhere in the middle of Jamie reassuring her she isn't insane at all, Dani had drifted towards her, kissed her, lips gentle but urgent and it takes Jamie a heartbeat to realize Dani is kissing her before she kisses her back. Her hands cup Dani's face, she feels Dani's silky blonde hair on her fingers, smells Dani, strawberry and jasmine, she thinks and all she can think of it isn't like kissing anyone else at all. Dani kisses softly, passionately, kisses like her life depended on it, kisses as if she wants so much to tell Jamie so many things and she can't. And it could've gone on and on, and Jamie could've kissed her all night, would've wanted to, hadn't realized how much she'd wanted to until Dani's lips were on hers, but then Dani'd stiffened, breath hitching and she'd jumped back and Jamie had seen the fear in her eyes, the guilt and she knows Dani had seen something. Jamie herself hadn't believed in those things, but she believed that Dani believed in it and so would respect that, would support it.  
That night they'd shared their first kiss had soured an otherwise fine night, but Jamie didn't want to push it, didn't want to risk it, was reminded why she didn't do relationships at all. 

She'd resolved to stick to her resolution this time.

***

But Dani was relentless. 

Dani with her bad coffee and bad tea and her flustered and nervous way of speaking, her warm, intelligent eyes, her innocence and naivete. Dani with her awkward flirtations and her shy invitations for a date at the pub, Dani with her smiles and her dancing eyes and her soft touches and kisses.  
Dani slowly wore down her defenses, her resolve, til Jamie started looking forward to going to the Manor, just to see Dani.

***

Jamie feels the pain, sharp, electric, like needles prickling her skin, crawling up her left arm.

Jamie sits on the bed, massages her left arm, flexes her hand. She takes a deep breath. Feels a sharp pain stabbing her shoulder, moving to her chest.

She looks to the door. Left ajar. Like she always does. Water in the bathtub. She'd stopped keeping her front door open. Mikey told her it was insane to do so. This was no longer the 80s, he'd chided her. It was too dangerous to leave front doors open. She was inclined to agree. She'd survived Thatcher, two Gulf wars, two Bush administrations, Tory governments, Tony Blair, Boris Johnson, a pandemic, Bly Manor, the death of the only woman she ever truly loved - but yes, the times have changed. But death at the hands of a stranger was the least of her worries. There are worst things than death itself, she thinks.

There are worse things.

The pain feels unbearable now, and she can see things swimming infront of her, the ceiling spinning, feels like she cannot breathe, like something has been wrenched away from her, she feels her arm, the left side of her body slowly stiffen. She reaches for her phone, quickly dials 911, manages to hold on and speak to someone on the other end, tell them her name. Jamie Taylor. Address. Phone. What's happening to her body. Then darkness claims her, she drops the phone on the floor, slips, body tumbling to the floor, lifeless and then darkness claims her.


	2. Chapter 2

_Jamie..._

_Jamie..._

_Can you hear me?_

_Hello....where am I?_

_Do you remember what happened, Jamie?_

_I don't...don't know...what's going on?_   
_What happened?_

_Flashing lights. Voices. Darkness. She feels like she's floating above. Can see people below, hovering over a body._

_Where am I?_

_Oh, Jamie..._

_What happened? Tell me..._

Darkness.

***

A steady beeping. Whiteness. Bright white light. A room. A chair. Machines beeping and whirring. Everything so white.

_Where am I?_

_You had an accident._

_Who are you?_

_I think you know who I am._

_Why can't I see you?_

_I'm right here._

_You're all...blurry and shimmer-y. You're out of focus. Your voice is a bit familiar though..._

_You can see me when you want to see._

_I want to see you. Show yourself._

_When you're ready, you'll see me..._

_Why can't I see myself, as well...?_

_When you're ready..._

***

_That's me, isn't it? On the bed?_

_Yes._

_I can't... What's happened? Why am I on the bed? ...Why...Am I dead?_

_You're in a coma..._

_I was in my room, just thinking about things, about to go to bed and..._

***

_Where are we? I'm back at home..._

_Yes, the night of the stroke._

_Which was?_

_Two days ago._

_How are we able to go back to two days ago and..._

_Time is irrelevant here...an illusion._

_Ah. So I had a stroke. Is that why I'm in a coma?_

_Yes._

_Will I make it?_

_I don't know. Do you want to?_

_I don't know. This doesn't seem like heaven...or hell...I'm still on earth..._

_Yes._

_Is this what dying feels like?_

_Dying is different for everyone._

_Am I going to die?_

_I don't know. Are you afraid?_

_I don't know. Yes._

***

Blonde hair, blue eyes, a smile. Scent of jasmine and rose. A kiss on her cheek. Her neck. Her throat. Her lips. A voice. Laughter. A flower. White. The night sky.  
A ring. Mist.

But always blonde hair and blue eyes and that smile.

***

_Where...am I back at the hospital?_

_Yes._

_The stroke happened..._

_Three days ago._

_Is that..._

_Your brother, Mikey..._

_Talking to a doctor. Never liked doctors._

_So, you say._

_They poke around and tell you shit you already know and they're bloody condescending and...why is Mikey crying? What did the doctor say?_

_You're dying._

***

There are images. Scenes. From her life that keep flashing before her, in slow motion, like a slow moving movie, playing out before her.

She is six, she's with Mikey. It is spring. They're all alone. She doesn't know where their mum and dad are. Mikey's crying. She holds him. Tries to soothe his pain.

Pain. Sharp pain. The feel of the belt on her back as she is hit with it over and over again. The buckle glints in the sunlight streaming from the window.  
She feels the thwack of the board against the back of her legs. The pain. The unbelievable pain. Pain so powerful she thinks she'd pass out or die. Tears on her cheeks. The screams. Trying to make it stop. Mikey in the corner, cowering in fear. Rocking his body back and forth, shirt inside out, eyes going blank. Jamie's body going numb.  
Scalding water thrown on her back. The pain. Her screams. Her sight going black. The rage. Grabbing something to throw back. The blood.

The blood.

She wants it to stop. Wants it to stop. Neverending scenes from childhood. Teachers that tell her she's dumb. Classmates that laugh at her rumpled, used clothes. Her mismatched pair of shoes and socks. The hunger. No money for supper. Going to sleep with her stomach rumbling.

The crack of her fist against someone's face. Screams. A crowd gathering. More screams. A fist connecting to her face. The taste of blood on her busted lip.  
The sting of a slap against her cheek. Her face snapping back with the force of it. Threats.

Faces. So many faces. Faces of different uninterested foster parents. Social workers. Disappointed teachers. Contemptuous classmates.  
Escaping her small town as soon as she can...on a coach bound for London. Mikey's disappointed, crying face. Guilt. So much guilt.

London. So big. And so overwhelming and so crowded. Feeling alone. Surrounded by people who didn't care for her anymore than her parents did.  
Meeting her mates. Sleeping on doorsteps and streets and benches. Stench of the Thames in her nose. Sleeping in abandoned buildings during winter. Shivering in the cold. Tattered jeans. Tattered shirt. Tattered coat. Old newspapers tucked in her clothes. The hunger. Always the hunger. And the anger. Rising up as bile. Anger cold and strong and bitter. First thrill of the stealing apples in the high street. Of picking pockets. Taste of fish and chips in her mouth. Tartar sauce. First pint of beer. Taste of tobacco. Smell of cigarettes. Feel of lips against hers. Hard. Desperate. Urgent.

  
Crash of breaking glass. Hitting someone. Screams. Glint of steel in the light. Screams. Her mate being stopped. Screams. So much blood. Flash of lights. Cold steel against her wrist. The cold of the room. Staring up at the officer. Realizing she would die if she didn't stop. Knowing she couldn't stop...

  
The center. The other kids. All as angry as her. All as self-destructive. The counselor talking to her. Beth. Beth gone. Gardening. Moonflowers. Smell of earth. Of grass. Sun on her skin. Wind on her face. Realizing she can make it after all. That she's going to be alright.

  
Mrs. Wingrave. Bly Manor. Faces of the people there flashing past. Flor running down the halls. Miles walking around. Owen in the kitchen, cooking. Hannah mopping. Sweeping the floor. Wiping the tables. The Wingraves. Rebecca. Peter. And then...and then...

Dani.

Dani. Always Dani.

Dani in the kitchen. In the parlor. In the rooms. In the hallway. On the grounds.

Dani in the garden.

Dani in the greenhouse.

Dani in her arms. Feel of Dani against her. Dani's skin against her lips. Touch of Dani om her skin.

Dani. Dani. Dani.

Always Dani.

She closes her eyes and feels the ache. Feels the longing. Feels the pain.

***

_I keep seeing things._

_What things?_

_Scenes...from my life. Playing out like a movie. A very long movie. In slow motion._

_Yes._

_Yes?_

_It happens._

_Does it?_

_When you're dying..._

_Oh..._

_Your life flashes before you...except it doesn't really flash by, does it?_

_No._

_It's more like something playing out in slow motion, isn't it?_

_Yes._

_Yes._

_I'm really dying, aren't I?_

_Yes. I'm sorry._

_Is it going to hurt?_

_No..._

_What happens after?_

_After what?_

_I die._

_You'll find out soon enough. Are you ready?_

***

_It feels weird to watch your own funeral._

_Yes._

_It feels even weirder to see people you've never seen suddenly appear at your funeral. That minister saying all that stuff about me...when we couldn't even..._

_Yes._

_Who are these people? I don't recognize them..._

_Except for Mikey..._

_Yes, except for Mikey._

_He seems very upset._

_We were very close, growing up._

_Ah._

_Until we weren't._

_I see._

_But we've been better. Over the past few years, he's been in touch with me. Getting me to go back to England..._

_But you never wanted to go back there..._

_No. Never._

_Never?_

_Yes. The last time I was there was..._

_Ah, yes._

_You know?_

_I can guess..._

_My hands...my feet...I can see them now..._

_Yes..._

_You're a bit clearer now, too. Though still a bit fuzzy around the edges..._

_Yes._

_What's...what's going on now?_

_You're beginning to...accept things..._

_Ah._

_Do you recognize me now?_

_Wait...Hannah? Is...is that you...?_

***

Jamie somehow senses her being manifest itself as the bell tolls, and the priest's voice drones on and on and the sky darkens, clouds grey, and the first drops of rain start to fall. She senses the rain, rather than hears it. She makes her way to the back of the church and out the door. The rain is falling much more strongly now. She sticks out a hand, doesn't feel it. She raises her face to the sky, doesn't feel it. A gust of wind blows, and though it rustles the leaves and grass, it doesn't rustle her own clothes, and she feels nothing. She looks down. She is a jumpsuit, the old one she used to like to wear at Bly Manor. _Bloody fucking hell_ , she mutters to herself, touching the fabric, _what the fuck is this?!?_ Then she notices her hand, stares at it, puts it up her face, is surprised. Gone are the wrinkles, the gnarly, old fingers, in its place, young, clean, clear skin, skin as she had when she was in her 20s and working at Bly. She pushes her sleeves up, sees the same clear skin, touches her shoulders, chest, her stomach...they feel new. _No saggy tits here_ , she thinks to herself with a chuckle. Her back, her hips, her joints, feel new, none of the pain she's had to put up with for the past few years. She catches a strand of hair, examines it. Auburn, not white. And then she starts to laugh. Bloody hell! She thinks to herself as she finds herself grinning.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" a voice, unmistakably British, clipped, restrained, a tinge of wonder in it, says from behind.

Jamie turns and Hannah takes a step forward, staring out at the landscape for a time before finally looking at Jamie.

"Hannah..." Jamie says again, voice cracking, full of emotion. Hannah hasn't aged a day, Jamie thinks. She looks exactly like she did when she'd first seen her in Bly.

"About time you got here," Hannah says, briskly, efficiently, as she always does. "We've got work to do."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is unexpected. Started writing a ghost story, ended up with this angsty story instead. Hope you like. The world may have gone to hell, but at least we'll always have Dani and Jamie and their love story. Happy reading and stay safe.

_A shame what happened._

_Yes, stroke._

_Heart attack, I heard._

_All alone._

_No kids._

_No husband._

_I heard she was..._

_Yes. I heard they were together...for a time..._

_She'd drowned herself..._

_Did she?_

_Yes. In some lake in England._

_Ah. I've never been._

_Oh, you must. It's lovely this time of year._

_Did they ever find a body?_

_I don't know. Nobody knows. Lord knows what goes on in those English manors._

_Why did she drown herself?_

_I heard she was depressed._

_I heard she was...not right in the head._

_You hear a lot of things._

_Aye, yes, you do. And she will be buried here?_

_Yes, right next to the grave of her lover._

_But I thought they never found a body?_

_Does it matter?_

_Of course it does._

_At least they're finally going to be reunited..._

_Will they really? I heard suicides don't go to heaven..._

_Homosexuals don't either..._

***

Jamie clenches her fist. Her eyes flash. She doesn't even realize the gust of wind that knocks the old ladies' hats off, that push their skirts and scarfs aside.

Hannah lays a hand on her shoulder. Or what used to be her shoulder. Jamie feels a calm descend through her.

"Jamie..." Hannah says soothingly. "Jamie...we shouldn't..."

Jamie closes her eyes. Tries to ignore Hannah. She knows, instinctively, even when she shouldn't, what Hannah is trying to say. She shouldn't. She really shouldn't. Only dead a few...hours? Days? Weeks? And she senses something different within her...this ability to summon the wind, by sheer force of emotion, of will, alone. She could go up to those biddies, stretch a hand, imagine their hearts beating, imagine her fists closing in over their hearts, squeezing them, choking them of life, and she knows the old women will start to gasp, to struggle, to die. It could be dismissed as a heart attack. Or a stroke. But it would unmistakably be her hand, responsible for their deaths. It would be so easy. So fucking easy. To kill these women. To wipe that smug look on their faces. To see that life snuffed out of their eyes. To sense their bodies giving up as she wills their deaths. It's a lifetime of anger, a lifetime of people telling her loving a woman is wrong, and sinful and evil. It's a lifetime of people giving Dani pitiful looks, as if Jamie wasn't good enough, as if Jamie didn't deserve her, as if Dani deserved better. They look at Jamie and think about all the futures Dani is missing out on: a husband, children, grandchildren, a life. But Dani didn't care. Dani never cared. Dani didn't care when she asked her out for a boring old drink at the pub. She didn't care when she kissed Jamie at the greenhouse. She certainly didn't care that night Jamie showed Dani her moonflowers and Dani had kissed her again, and more...given herself to Jamie, telling her in her kisses and touches and embraces how much she didn't care. And in those nights, those first few years, when she'd struggled in America, with the looks and the stares and the questions and smirks, when they'd been refused service or ignored, when she couldn't find a job and Dani worked two jobs just to make ends meet, those cold, cold nights, Dani would hold her and kiss her and whisper that she didn't care at all, that all that mattered was that she loved Jamie and Jamie loved her back and that was all that mattered. And things got better and she found a job and they managed to save enough for a decent apartment, and get a loan for a flowershop and Jamie realizes, as Dani sleeps soundly tucked beside her, her arm around her, that Dani is right, that it was all that mattered.

And yet.

And yet.

"Easy," Hannah says softly. "I can sense your rage from over here..."

" Sorry,"Jamie mutters. "Old wounds. And salt. And all that shit. A couple of old women talking about her life as if it was nothing. Fucking nothing. Fuck them all to hell."

Hannah doesn't speak for a while as they watch the rest of the attendees file out of the church.

"I've never been one for churches, " Jamie offers. "Even when we were at Bly, I'd never been one for churches. You were the one always lighting candles and shit."

"Yes, I remember, " Hannah acknowledges. "Why is that?"

Jamie shrugs. "I couldn't be bothered, honestly. I just...something about hypocrisy and the inherent self-righteousness of the clergy that didn't really sit well with me..."

"Ah, yes," Hannah agrees, her eyes never leaving the crowd. "But you don't go to church for the hypocritical, self-righteous clergy. You go to church for God."

" Ah, yes. But I could do that just as well, in the comfort of my own home."

Hannah grins.

" What?"

"So, you do believe in God?"

"Hard not to," Jamie says.

" Good."

" Why is that?"

" Because God believes in you, too."

***

_"Do you want company...? Do you want company while you wait for your beast in the jungle?"_

_Dani had closed tear-stained eyes. Had bit her lip and shaken her head. A sob, small, barely perceptible, escapes her perfect lips. She started to shake her head. No, she couldn't involve Jamie. She'd told her that as much. Jamie was the love of her life. It was too much. Too much to ask of her. To accompany her to god knows where, knowing this thing, whatever it was, hiding beneath her being, lurking in the shadows, was waiting to unleash itself, waiting to unleash hell on earth and take everything and everyone down with her. No. Never._

_But Jamie. Stupid Jamie. Stupid, reckless, lovely, loving Jamie wanted to be with her. Even if the future was uncertain. Even if she could lose her, would lose her, any moment and never get her back. Even if Dani would never be completely hers, because a part of her had been promised to this beast, in exchange for a life, or lives, that of Flora and Jamie and all the rest that survived that night at Bly..._

_Jamie wanted to be with her and that was enough._

***

"I'm sorry, what?" Jamie asks Hannah.

"Do you want company, as they lower your body into the earth and say your last rites and bury you in the earth?"

Jamie looked at her. " Bloody hell, Hannah. No."

Hannah just looks at her.

"Yes, fine."

As they follow the mourners, Hannah says, "It would be good for you...to see your own body lowered into the earth. It would give you a measure of...closure as it were..."

"Seriously, Hannah, enough with the creepy pronouncements," Jamie says. "You are beginning to freak me out."

"Why would you freak out?" Hannah asks, the beginnings of a smile forming on her face. "You're already dead."

***

_"Is that...a moonflower...? They're really rare you know..."_

_"I've got a serious problem... Or rather we've got a serious problem..."_

_"Oh, no..."_

_"You see, I'm not sick of ye...at all...I'm actually pretty in love with you, it turns out..."_

_The adoring, adorable smile. The way her eyes lit up at what Jamie had said. The way she'd kissed her, long and deep and tender._

_The way they'd rolled around, on a bed of roses, thorns in her bum be damned. The way Dani had laughed when Jamie had said that, holding her close, hand on her face, thumb brushing her cheek as she kisses her gently, wanting to give herself, wanting to give Jamie the world, wanting to give Jamie everything. So much to say and so little time to say it. They could have eternity and it would still not be enough time for them. Forever is not enough for what she feels for Jamie. Forever is never enough. Would never be enough. So she kisses Jamie. Long and deep and shattering. A kiss for the ages. A kiss that tells her how much she loves Jamie. How much she'd go to the ends of the earth for her. How much she'd go to hell for her. How much she's willing to sacrifice, even her body and soul, for her. It's too much sometimes, these feelings she has for Jamie. Too much. So she kisses her instead. As if it were a promise. Of long summer nights spent naked and sated together. Of endless winter nights just holding each other. Of nights of starless wonder and beautiful sky, dark and bright. Together._

_But then the door bell rings and a customer calls out and there will be talk of starting herb gardens and lilies and birds of paradise and the spell is broken and Dani reluctantly gets up, calls back to the customer, brushes the leaves and petals from her shirt, runs a hand on her blond hair, and smiles down at Jamie. She leans over and gives_ _Jamie one last kiss, whispers something in her ear and Jamie feels her heart grow within her chest. She is grinning from ear to ear as Dani steps out into the shop again._

***

"Never had a funeral..."

"What are you talking about?" Jamie says, looking at Hannah, incredulously. "We retrieved your body from that bloody well. We had a wake and a funeral and everything."

"Oh, quite right, sorry," Hannah murmurs, "Quite right. My memory isn't what it used to be..."

  
Jamie turns to her, regards her, studies Hannah's smooth, olive skin, standing stoic and unmoving against a windswept field. Hannah is as ageless as ever. Exactly as Jamie remembers her from their time at Bly. But at the same time, something is different with her. As if something has changed. As if the weight of the afterlife, the weight of the knowledge of what life after death has to offer, has changed her. There's something almost tragic about her, something unfinished, unfulfilled, regret and longing and pain. Jamie wants to reach out. To make her feel better. But what does one to say to one dead and gone? Hannah had been dead for a time, longer than Jamie. Longer than anyone she's ever known. And yet the weight of the life she's lived hangs over her, seems to torture her, to pain her.

Jamie only nods now. "Sorry. Anyway, Owen insisted. He wanted a proper funeral. Wanted everything right and proper."

Owen had insisted, Jamie remembers that. He'd insisted he be the one to get Hannah's body, insisted he be there for her when they had come to take her body away, had held her hand, refusing to let her go, til they had to ask him to let her go, had to pry him away from her cold, stiff body. And he'd cried. Oh, how he cried. Big, fat tears of pain and longing and agony. Jamie had never seen a man, anyone, cry as much as Owen had cried that night. Jamie had turned away, unable to look at him, giving him the privacy he needed, felt embarassed that day, because she was alive and Dani was alive and it seemed unfair. That she could have Dani but Owen couldn't have Hannah.

  
"I should have just...ran away with her," Owen had said, voice broken and defeated. "I should have just...taken her away from this...all of this...and never come back..."

  
Jamie had listened, held Dani's hand, as the police gathered and asked questions and searched around the house and the grounds, trying to put the pieces together - Peter Quint's missing body, Rebecca Jessel's suicide, Hannah Grose's broken body in the well...all connected somehow and yet not really. Henry Wingrave and his solicitors had taken care of everything before the coppers would start asking deeper questions: Rebecca had committed suicide by drowning, Peter declared missing and possibly dead, Hannah slipping into the well and dying. Because if anyone would look too deeply, everything would fall apart. Even Jamie, after all these years, had thought, had wondered, had considered things. And no matter how much she thought about it, she always thought, in the end, that it was unfair, so unfair, that she couldn't have more years with Dani...and that Dani couldn't have more years with her...

***

_"Here's the thing...you're my bestfriend and the love of my life...and I don't know how much time we have left but however much it is, I wanna spend it with you and I know we can't technically get married but I also don't really care...We can wear the rings so we will know...that's enough for me, if it's enough for you..."_

_The ring had been unexpected._

_Dani had been clear that there was some...unnamed beast within her, waiting to take her. Jamie hadn't asked and Dani wouldn't have been able to answer if she had. It had been difficult to describe, this thing waiting to consume her, to destroy her. It felt like some ghost from her past. Or a ghost from her present. Either way, she'd never been the same since that night at Bly, when Flora had almost drowned and Dani had saved her. The police had almost accused Dani of drowning the child, but Henry Wingrave had seen things, they all did, and they knew better than accept that. No. Something irrevocable, something damning, had happened that night, but it had been the same thing that freed everything from that manor. Dani had sacrificed herself so that others would be free. She did that for Flora. For Hannah. For Henry. And in the end, even for Jamie. And especially for Jamie._

_And so the ring had been unexpected. But not unwelcome._

_If there had been any shred of a doubt in Jamie's mind abour how much Dani had loved her, that ring had erased it. Had confirmed it. Dani loved her. Dani will always love her. Jamie had felt it then. And though Dani had been gone for years now, Jamie can still sense that. But only because Jamie still loves her. Has always loved her. And even now, in this life, after death, she knows she always will._

_Jamie remembers her heart swelling with love then, remembers herself nodding. Remembers telling her it was enough. As Dani holds her and kisses her, Jamie realizes it was more than enough. Realizes they never really needed a ring at all._

***

Hannah doesn't say anything when Jamie brings Owen's name up. But there's a slight change in her expression. Guilt maybe.

  
Jamie follows Hannah's eyes. Sees that the minister is done saying the final words, for from dust was she made from, unto dust shall she return. Jamie snorts at that.

Hannah looks at her. "What?"

"Nothing like a little sermon to give you a little perspective."

Hannah nods. Doesn't speak.

"What?"

Hannah motions to the men lowering her casket into the hole in the ground. They both watch as the people, one by one, leave, til the crowd thins out and the only one left is Mikey, standing there as the men start to throw earth on her casket.

"Always struck me how...clean funerals are," Hannah muses. "How antiseptic."

Jamie makes a face. "I'm sure."

"It always puzzled me..." Hannah begins, hesitates. At a nod from Jamie, she continues. "How humans shy away from death. Cover death up in caskets and shrouds and light and all...this..."

"You speak like you weren't human once."

"It's been awhile. I sometimes forget I ever was."

"You were only ever dead for more than a quarter of a century, Hannah," Jamie points out. " Certainly not a long time to forget you've ever been one..."

"Sometimes, it feels longer..."

***

_When had it all started to unravel? Jamie wonders._

_She'd like to think there was a moment in their thirteen years together that she could point to as the catalyst, the thing that set Dani on to the path that would take her back to Bly and its lake, but she couldn't._

_What she remembers are moments. Little moments interspersed with the happy ones, tiny, infinitesimal moments that hint at Dani's eventual demise. Like her eyes changing. Pretty and blue ocean eyes, one of them tinged with dark flecks of brown. Little moments when Dani would disappear into her own head, and her eyes would change, and her expression would shift and for a time Dani no longer looks like Dani and no matter how many times Jamie calls out to her, this one doesn't answer back. This one looks at her, blankly, absently, as if she hadn't just professed her love over a ring and a dying plant. Moments when Dani would be washing the dishes and she'd stop, unmoving, stare at the water too long, and then suddenly gasp, drop a plate crashing to the floor, jolting Jamie back to an awareness that the end might be nearing, is nearing. Or a moment, in the bath, when Dani is so lost staring at the water that Jamie is almost afraid Dani will drown herself._

_There'd always been something about Dani, Jamie had sensed. Even before Bly, even before what happened at the lake all those years ago, Jamie had sensed that Dani had been battling her own demons. A dead boyfriend for one. A penchant for falling in love with the wrong sex. A sense of guilt and shame at herself, for feeling the way she did. Dani was never one to talk much about any of it. And as the years pass, she would talk less and less about it, until even that time at the bath, she would refuse to speak, her fear, for herself, for Jamie, for what might happen, so great, she couldn't put it into words. Jamie had talked her out of it, had told her she'd bear it for the both of them. And Dani had shaken her head. Had refused to let her bear the burden alone._

_But Jamie had been adamant. Jamie was always fighting for them. Jamie was a fighter, that's why. Jamie had always been a fighter. And fighting for Dani was her life's greatest battle. She was never going to give up on her. She loved Dani, you see. She loved her so, so much._

_And yet, that day, at the bath, as she held Dani and tried to soothe her, she and Jamie knew something neither one was afraid to admit: that time was running out, that Dani's demons would come claim her for their own and that Dani would no longer be hers. Maybe was never hers to keep at all._

***

"What's wrong?" Hannah asks now.

"What?"

" You're all...pensive. Contemplative," Hannah observes. " Hardly a very Jamie thing to do."

"That's a bit harsh."

" Sorry, it's true."

Jamie smiles, in spite of herself. "It's nothing..."

"What?" Hannah asks, curious. When Jamie hesitates, Hannah rolls her eyes. It would be comical, a spirit in the after life rolling her eyes, but for the slight irritation in Hannah's eyes. "Oh, come off it, Jamie. Go on then, out with it. What's on your mind then?"

"I've just...it's weird...I've just been thinking a lot about Dani, since..."

"You died?"

"Well, yes," Jamie answers, cautiously. "I mean, there wasn't a day that didn't go by that I didn't think about her, when she was alive...but now that I'm dead...I find myself thinking about her, constantly...is that..."

" Normal?"

Jamie nods.

Hannah shrugs. "It's to be expected. Wasn't she the love of your life or some such thing?"

Jamie would blush if she weren't dead. Instead, she only nods.

"Right," Hannah says with a sigh, taking one last look at Jamie's grave, then Dani's grave beside her. " We are done here. Shall we go?"

Jamie is still staring at Dani's grave. She hadn't noticed it at first during the burial. But now she sees it, bright as day.

"There'd been a body, you know," Jamie had said softly then.

" Right, yes, of course there was," Hannah responds briskly.

"They'd fished it out of the lake...and..." A lump forms in her throat and she stops, unable to continue, feeling the tears threaten to overwhelm her.

After all these years, thoughts of Dani could make her feel so.

***  
 _Dani's body had been retrieved from the lake, lifeless and bloated, blue eyes dead and gone, staring up at the sky, skin slimy and strange and not at all like Dani._

_Jamie hadn't wanted to. Hadn't wanted to see Dani like this. Wanted to remember Dani as she was. Young and beautiful and hers._

_But Dani also needed a decent funeral. Dani needed to be buried. She didn't quite understand how Dani and the fate of the lady in the lake intertwined, but she felt that maybe_ _if she buried her in earth, it would be alright._

_But it hadn't been the same, Jamie knew this._

_Even as she buried Dani herself, with only Owen and Mikey and Henry Wingrave in attendance, Jamie knew it was different._

_It was as if Dani's true essence had been left in Bly, at the lake, that her very being would haunt Bly and Jamie could do nothing about it._

***

"Are you ready now?" Hannah asks her finally.

"You keep saying that."

"You need reminding."

"Why? What happens next?"

"I have to help you..."

" With what?"

" With crossing over..."

"What, on the other side?"

Hannah looks at her, then slowly nods.

Jamie feels her heart pound. Or whatever it is that's in her chest pounds when her physical heart is gone. She feels nervous, anxious.

"I...I don't think I'm ready..." Jamie finally says.

" No one's ever really ready," Hannah tells her gently. "The best you can do is gird your loins, take a deep breath and take the plunge."

Jamie makes a face. "Is that it? Is that the best you've got?"

Hannah grins. " 'Fraid so. Sorry, Jamie."

Jamie looks back at her gravestone. And at Dani's. Feeling it would be the last time she'd see her.

***

_Jamie doesn't know who brings it up first. If it's her or Dani. One minute they're kissing and making out and giggling and the next minute they're talking about death and gravestones and epitaphs._

_"Epitaphs!" Dani had said, triumphantly to Jamie. "You have to make me a good epitaph."_

_Jamie had stared at her then, missing the feel of Dani's lips on her, and so she settles between Dani's legs and asks, "What are you on about, love?"_   
_Dani had smiled, looking up at Jamie, one arm tightening on her back, one hand cupping Jamie's face and says, "Promise me you'll come up with a good epitaph for my gravestone."_

_Jamie had knitted her eyebrows then and said, "Ehm, sorry, this just got dark fast, love."_   
_Dani had laughed. "No, no. I mean, you kind of always know what to say to me...so I think if there's anyone who'd make a good epitaph for me for when I'm dead, it's going to be you..."_

_" Still a little too morbid for my taste, love," Jamie jokes._

_" Honey..."_

_"Dani, love, didn't you lure me with the promise of unbridled sex, and perhaps some...wanton...positions?"_

_Dani had looked at her then and Jamie had said,"I'm not very good at words, Dani. I'm only good at...gardening and loving you..."_

_At that, Dani's expression softens, and she smiles and kisses Jamie._

_And then Dani is kissing her, thoughts of morbid epitaphs forgotten._

***

Jamie stares at Dani's gravestone, name and years beautifully etched on marble. Below that, Jamie had debated what to put. Dani wasn't close to her parents, so she couldn't put "loving daughter". She didn't have siblings that Jamie knew of, and so she couldn't put "loving sister" on it. And so she'd finally decided on something she thinks Dani would approve: "Loving wife and bestfriend...forever in our hearts..." It had been simple. Jamie had never been one for words. She was better at gardening, at loving Dani, but Dani had insisted and finally, when the woman in charge of Dani's gravestone had asked what she wanted to put, it is what finally comes to her. And when she finally sees the gravestone, after the services are done and it's just her standing by a small hill, on a deserted memorial park, breeze blowing on a cloudy autumn day, Jamie had known it was right. It felt right. Because Dani was the love of her life, too. And her best friend. And even if she never lived long enough to see people like them get married, they'd already been married in all the things that count. She had been wife and partner to Jamie. As Jamie had tried her best to be the same to her, too.

And Jamie had cried. And cried. And cried.

***

"Jamie...we need to go," Hannah says gently.

Her voice jolts Jamie back to the present. Makes her realize she'd been thinking about Dani again. She stares at

"I wanted her to take me with her, you know," Jamie had said. Wanted to drown, like her. Couldn't imagine a life without her."

Hannah doesn't really know how to answer that, feels like it doesn't need a response. She is right. Jamie continues as if Hannah isn't there.

"I knew some day I'd eventually lose her, and I'd tried preparing myself for it, but nothing really ever prepares you, does it?" Jamie asks her now. "Nothing prepares you for a lifetime of sorrow and pain and longing and loss...of feeling like something has been ripped out of you and you'd never be whole again...I knew losing her would hurt...but I hadn't realized how much it would hurt..." Jamie closes her eyes. She hadn't been strong. She'd tried to be, all these years. Tried counselling and moving on and dating other women but Dani was it for her. Dani was always it for her. And nobody can realize the long, slow horror of losing someone, bit by bit, every year, to the demon that they'd been trying to keep at bay.

"It doesn't get any easier, does it?" Hannah finally asks.

Jamie shakes her head. "Has it been easier for you?"

Hannah doesn't respond at first, before she shakes her head, no. After a beat, she says, "We have to go. I have to take you there now. It's time."

Jamie nods. "Okay."

Hannah offers a sad smile. She starts to walk away. Jamie follows.

The memorial park, its manicured lawn, the trees, the cloudy sky, everything else, seems to slowly fade away.

"Will Dani be there?" Jamie finally asks, hope in her chest as she watches the world grow a bit brighter.

Hannah doesn't answer her question. Instead, she takes Jamie's hand and a bright light, as a light at the end of a tunnel, strong and clean and pure, tug at her, pull at her and then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like it? Want it to continue? Leave your kudos and comments. Thanks for reading! Cheers!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Liking it so far? Want it to continue? Leave your kudos and comments. 
> 
> This one will probably only be a two-shot story.
> 
> PS Come check out my original stories at freerangeegghead (EgganRand) at wattpad.com. :-) and blog at freerangeeggmed.wordpress.com.


End file.
